


Growing Up Doesn't Mean Growing Apart

by nctinee



Series: Erlebnisse [13]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: A little bit of self harm, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Brotherly Love, Fluff, Graduation, Growing Up, I don't wanna grow up so Jisung doesn't either, I love sibling Duo Doyoung and Jisung, It's not bad!! And only for a sec I promise!!, M/M, Mentioned Zhong Chen Le, Quarantine has made me emo, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23366524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nctinee/pseuds/nctinee
Summary: His graduation. He was graduating. He was 18 and he wasn't a kid anymore. Somehow it didn't feel real. Like the past four years he spent in the big brick prison-like building was a dream and he was just waking up. He didn't want to grow up. He was scared, and he didn't feel like he was ready. There was still so much he didn't know, and he was terrified.But luckily, Doyoung is there to pull him out of his fear.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung & Park Jisung, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le (mentioned)
Series: Erlebnisse [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1418836
Kudos: 27





	Growing Up Doesn't Mean Growing Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Hi sorry I died!! I'm kinda stuck with this series but I'm gonna get through it and keep working! Quarantine is making me a little stir crazy and I have to start e-Learning tomorrow (again ugh) but I'll keep writing! Thank you so much for those of you who waited and are still supporting me, it means so much!!

Jisung looks down at his own smiling face in the senior section of the yearbook, knees bouncing and fingers twitching as he waits for his parents to get ready so they can head out to his graduation.

His graduation. He was graduating. He was 18 and he wasn't a kid anymore. Somehow it didn't feel real. Like the past four years he spent in the big brick prison-like building was a dream and he was just waking up. 

If the gown wasn't so heavy on his shoulders, or if the cap's tassel didn't brush his hand as he rests it beside him on the bed, he would've believed it was a dream. It all felt too fake, like a simulation or a scene in a movie. He wasn't ready for the real thing, he didn't think he'd ever be ready.

He feels tears prick his eyes as he goes down that dark train of thought, deeper and deeper into the tunnel of anxiety and fear as he thinks _not ready not ready not ready_ over and over again, the silence of the room only pushing his thoughts. His picture in the yearbook looks more like it's grimacing than smiling, eyes dead and gray than their usual deep brown color. He still looks like a child, baby fat and soft jaw where there should be hard skin and sharp bones, always behind his peers.

He flips a few pages and finds Chenle's picture, eyes bright and smile wide as he stares into the camera. While Jisung has always thought he looked stupid in his school picture, he thinks Chenle looks effortlessly beautiful in his. Everything about Chenle was beautiful, and his mind didn't stray far from the thought of him deserving someone better than himself. He tried to bring his mind away from that thought, but that anxiety took hold of the controls of the train and he kept barreling down into the dark.

He was slipping, hands shaking and tears dripping down his cheeks as he digs up every bad thought of himself, the voices whispering "broken" and "weak" and "child" while the gown grows heavier on his shoulders. His hands curl into fists, nails biting crescent red moons into his palms while the tears soak the pages of his smiling classmates. _Not ready not ready not ready_ they all seem to chant, and that's all he hears while the dark tendrils of depression and fear grab him and hold him down.

He doesn't register the book being lifted from his lap a few minutes later, and placed on the bed next to his cap, or the more slender and tanner fingers prying his hands apart from their hurtful positions. There's a heavy weight next to him—heavier than the gown or the bad things in his head—and there's words being whispered into his hair that fall on deaf ears, but it's enough to silence the voices for just a second.

His mind is a whirlwind of bad thoughts, but mixed in with the berating words he hears a faint, _"...love you,"_ that slows everything down, adding questions marks to every remark. The tendrils loosen their hold on his mind, the anxiety looses a little control on his train of thought, he can think a little clearer, but it's not enough to pull him out.

His first thought is that the person next to him is Chenle, but rules him out quickly because the other wouldn't be as delicate in pulling him out of the dark. Chenle doesn't have much experience with Jisung and his episodes, and he would talk and touch his way to get through the fog in his boyfriend's eyes to try and pull him out, which was proven not to work well the first night he had a panic attack in his now adoptive parent's home.

This person knew what they were doing, gentle fingers sliding through his hair and scratching at the nape of his neck while they gently coax him out of the dark with love and care in the words that take place in his mind. The smell of the shirt that his head has been pressed into smells familiar, vanilla and a little cigarette smoke (familiar in the way that the grooves of wood feel under his feet in the kitchen, familiar in the way that the eggshell white paint runs rough but smooth under his fingers in the hallway leading to his room, familiar like home) and it lulls him, tears slowing and hands losing their shake.

Jisung knows who it is (he'll always recognize those hands, the hands of his older brother who always brushed his tears away and promised to fight the monsters under his bed,) and his heart swells with fondness and love for the older boy, always able to take his hand and lead him towards the light.

He turns his head slightly, nuzzling a little closer into Doyoung's warmth that always seems to radiate from his skin. He squeezes his brother's hand, a little sign to show that he's there and he's listening, and he feels the huff of breath that comes from his mouth that serves as a laugh.

"Graduation was hard for me too," he says, one of his hands reaching over to fiddle with the tassle on the cap. He's got a faraway look in his eyes, like he's remembering something he tried to forget.

Jisung remembered Doyoung's senior year, and the dark period their puzzle-piece family went through. Doyoung's birth mother had died, and his birth father was an alcoholic that wanted money. It was hard for Doyoung, who had to try and wrestle apart his two worlds from colliding, and for their adoptive parents who had to watch a boy they'd grown to love struggle to keep things together. Though he was only 13, he was the one that held everybody together through hugs and hushed words. 

"I don't wanna grow up Doie, I don't," He says, memories of summer sun and blazing campfires at the front of his mind. He likes being a kid, being carefree and not having to worry about adult things. He doesn't want to lose his friends, the people that he's surrounded his entire life with. It's always been so easy with everyone by his side, but now that he's graduating he has to figure out things on his own, and he hates being alone.

"You have to Ji, or else you won't live at all," Doyoung whispers, rocking them slowly on the bed. "You don't want to live in the past do you? Not when all your friends are waiting for you in the future?"

"Yeah but," he sighs, "I dunno, it all just seems like it's slipping through my fingers. Like I've wasted my time doing nothing and worrying about things that didn't matter,"

"You're still a kid, you still have time to do all that you want to do. Growing up doesn't mean growing away from who you are Jisung, it just means that you're finding yourself more and more every day," 

"And what if I don't? What if we all _do_ grow apart? What-what happens whe-" it's all just so scary to him, the idea of losing everything he loves. The _what ifs_ seem so big and bad right now, the panic swelling up inside him overpowers every thought, pushing and pushing until he feels like he's on the edge of a cliff. It's all too much until-

"-Jisung, _Jisung. Look at me,_ " Then he's being turned to look at his brother who has always stood by his side, who took up the mantle of protecting a little glass boy without asking. Not bound by blood, no, but by something much stronger that has been built from the ground up. 

Doyoung's eyes are hard and boring, hands digging into his shoulders to keep him grounded. He looks determined, like nothing matters except for the boy in front of him. He takes a breath, then whispers out "I love you," with a slight shake in his voice. It doesn't sound like that's all though, like he wants to convey a million things into that one sentence. Jisung gets a hint of _"I'll always be here for you"_ , and _"You're doing good so far, no need to fret just yet"_ , but underneath it all he hears _"You're grown now, it's time for you to find your own way."_

All he can do is nod though, because for the first time that day his tears don't mean sadness and pain, but hope and love.

"Now, time for you to see the rest of the world," Doyoung finalizes, giving his shoulders one last squeeze then letting go, grabbing his cap and placing it on his head. His eyes are a little watery, but Jisung doesn't mention it. 

They stand up, and link hands (a habit they've had since Jisung was first brought to the Parks',) and walk out the door together, the rest of the world at their fingertips.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think that in the darker times, Jisung just forgets to use honorifics and because Doyoung is a good bro he lets him get away with it.
> 
> Thanks to those of you that waited, again. I really enjoy writing this stuff and I hope you guys like reading it! Have a good day/night and I'll see you when I update again <3


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